


Let me desecrate you

by TheMouthKing



Series: Bangtoberfest 2K17 [2]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: If You Squint - Freeform, Kinktober 2017, M/M, Watersports, also it is for kinktober, and no one wants, but I wrote it and it's better than the poem that came first, it hardly fits the prompt, oh my god kill me, please don't read this, really hard, so you get what you get, tbh it's really more just like, this is an adaptation of a poem, this weird fucking thing that no one asked for, tmk makes it awkward, too much prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 12:32:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12254460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMouthKing/pseuds/TheMouthKing
Summary: Uhh... Day 2 of Kinktober 2017; Watersports (if you squint).





	Let me desecrate you

**Author's Note:**

> So I can't even explain this really, but let me try. It started life as a poem like 12 years ago, and then this prompt comes along and I'm trying to get inside Rhett's head thinking about watersports (the pee kind) and this is more the cerebral space of the kink than the actual act itself. 
> 
> Like, read it knowing I'm talking about piss play. But also, like, know that it's also kind of not. 
> 
> Sorry not sorry. Idek.

It’s about territory. 

Link belongs to him and doggedly Rhett wants to roam the landscape of his body and mark the places he’s been, stake his claim with flags and Posted signs. To warn that he’s the only one permitted to hunt in his woods, to travel the living landscape of his flesh. But that’s not an option he has. 

It doesn’t matter that Link’s body had been his undiscovered country, the first shores he’d sailed when he was young, when he’d set out seeking conquest and in that, discovered himself. In the end, Link hadn’t been his. At least, not his only, not his in the way he’d wanted. 

Not in the way that would let him build a home in his skin, leave behind signs of his comings and goings for anyone to see. 

Link’s body’s a forest preserve. Rhett’s permitted to come and go, to visit and explore all there is to offer, but it’s sacred land. He’s got to leave him as he found him, no trace that he’d set up camp, no evidence left behind that in his mind he still calls Link home. 

That means no teeth. It means no nails, no bruises. It means taking care that rough never gets _too rough,_ that touches are soft and hands are open. That what he brings in can be taken away, no hint that he’d ever been there at all. 

For a long time, just having him was enough. Access and invitation, permission to touch. The taste and smell of him, the feel of his skin after so many years like coming back home. 

But then it wasn’t. 

Then, in lieu of building home in his skin, he longed to desecrate his personal landscape. To mark his territory however he could. If not with permanence -- if not moving on him to strip mine away the hard surface that keeps them from sinking soft and yielding, folding together like deep layers of molten earth -- then in ways that can be washed away. To possess him when and how he can get away with, as completely as he can, so long as it will be gone by morning, imperceptible after the rain.

That’s how it started. And it’s enough until it isn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> Smash that dislike button and unsubscribe.


End file.
